Why I'm Not Going To Drag Race You, Bro
Hey friend, yes I see you next to me at the stoplight.
Yes I do hear you revving your engine and am fully aware of what that means.
You want to race me.
I would just like to take this opportunity to point out a few things before we engage in our fast and/or furious drag-racery.
I am driving a 15-year-old Jeep Cherokee that has the aerodynamics of a Kirstie Alley's refrigerator. This thing makes a Prius look like a Lamborghini Gallardo.
Did you happen to notice that blue and white smoke coming from my car as we pulled up to the light? Did you think those were "smoke effects"? No, that's bits of metal and death from my dying engine.
I do love what you’ve done with your car though. That fin should make your car really sexually attractive to salmon, and I like the glow sticks under the chassis. Is there a tiny rave going on down there?
One last thing that I would like to mention is that as you have been revving your car and giving me the stink-eye in preparation for this race, you failed to notice the police officer that is behind the car that it is behind you.
Wait a minute, that cop seems to want to race. Yes, he's telling you that if you beat him at an off-the-line drag race he'll give you the keys to his cop car and let you pick one item out of the confiscated weapons room at the police station. Crap, you beat the cop. Look at that, you're picking out a double-sided axe. That is rad. Well, you were still kind of being a wenis to me, but I've got to hand it to you for picking the axe. Good luck with that. I'm going to spend the next ten minute's getting up to 50mph.
Have you ever raced anyone? Let us know in the comments!